The Truth Is Out There
by killer cereal
Summary: FBI Agents Lopez and Pierce investigate when the wildest wishes appear to come true. Brittana AU.
1. Chapter 1

_**I think I may have out geeked myself here. This is based on one of my favourite X files episodes, ****Je Souhaite**. Oh god, how I loved that show. Naturally, I have given it a Brittana twist. It is also a bit of a break from the norm for me because it has a pre prepared plot and I usually just make things up on the fly. Let me know what you think.  
_

* * *

**The Truth Is Out There  
**

A sleek silver covered golf cart with go faster stripes sped around the concrete ground of a self-storage storage facility. The driver, one Mrs Terri Schuester, had the pedal to the metal and zipped around at full speed, the cart tilted onto two wheels with every corner she took with one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding onto a radio as she talked into it loudly and incessantly.

"April? April, where are you, April? April, come in, April. April. Calling April. Where are you, April? April! April, calling April. Where are you, April? April! Where are you, April?"

In the shade of an empty storage unit the twin to Terri's radio crackled and buzzed with her voice. April Rhodes, who was highly skilled in ignoring her supervisor, flicked through a glossy magazine, the front cover featuring the headline, 'Lives of the Broadway Playboys and the Molls Who Love Them'. The golf cart passed the unit she was totally not hiding in then could be heard skidding to a halt out of view. A mind drilling beeping began as the vehicle reversed and then stopped in front of her finally catching her attention.

"April! Get out here."

Reluctantly April tucked away the magazine into a storage container which was almost full of boxes of wine. Next to her hip flask of morning Chardonnay she placed the two small yellow ear plugs she had comfortably tucked in her ears and plastered a fake grin to her face as she walked over to the golf cart.

"Top of the morning to you my favouritest of all the assistant-to-the-boss ladies I've had the pleasure of servitude with. I love what you've done with your hair. Is it windy out?"

"I've had enough of this attitude, April." Terri was yammering on already. "Did you clean out unit 407? No. Of course you haven't cleaned out 407. You've only had all damn morning. You think you're ever going to make it to Broadway the way you're going, huh? Do you think you're ever going to amount to anything? You can't even finish a simple job."

"A freakin' monkey could do this job, Schuesterkopf."

"Well, you obviously can't, so what's that say about you?"

April muttered under her breath. "Oh, shut up, loony tunes."

"Excuse me?" Terri's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I didn't quite catch that."

"I said how is that lovely husband of yours? He single yet?" April winked at her lasciviously.

If this were a manga, steam would be billowing out of Terri's ears, as it were, her top lip twitched uncontrollably and she snarled out. "You clean out 407. You move out that deadbeat's stuff, and you do it now. And when I come back in an hour it better be done or you'll be back to peeing in the cup, April. And don't make me reinstate random breathalysing, again."

Terri slammed the cart into forward gear and drove off in her little cart. April glared after her, muttering, "How can it be random if I'm the only employee? I'd love to see what you pour on your cornflakes, darlin'."

With bolt croppers almost as big as herself, April cut the lock off of the adjacent storage unit and opened the roll-up door, coughing up a lung as decades of dust and cobwebs protested the disturbance.

The unit was full of furniture and boxes buried in a thick grey layer of dust. April sighed, took a swig from her hip flask to whet her whistle and reluctantly got to work, beginning with moving a rolled up carpet. To her addled surprise the carpet moved under her arms and a muffled sound came from inside it. Surprised, she dropped it and grabbed the bolt cutters for protection.

"I know Kung Fu!" She squeaked out bravely and falsely and hesitantly took a step forward, nudging the carpet with her foot so it unrolled itself.

A young woman in her twenties, dressed in a tight fitting black skirt, pink low cut top, a leopard print jacket, sunglasses and a furry hat, rolled out of the rug.

April eyed the inside of her hip flask suspiciously then stared at the girl.

"Who the holy sweet haystacks are you, sweetcakes? That must have been some party, how come I wasn't invited?"

The woman lay still for a moment, then her eyes opened. She attempted to stand but staggered and fell to her knees again, dizzy with her unceremonious unveiling. She groaned. "I hate it when they do that."

* * *

An hour later Terri zoomed up on her deathly silent stealth cart to unit 407. April's radio was lying on the ground next to the open door and there was no sign of the small drunken fury.

"April... April? Son of a flakey..." Terri muttered furiously as she was forced to dismount her chariot and look into the storage container. "April? April? If you're sleeping on the job again I will fire your drunken, stunted... April?"

Terri gritted her teeth and let out steady fuming growl of air as she realised the unit was still full of furniture and there was no sign of her number one employee.

"That's it. Where are you, April? Do you hear me, April? April!"

All of a sudden her wail of the other woman's name was cut off and a split second later Terri clamped her hands over her mouth. With a muffled gasp she scrabbled frantically in horror at the place where her mouth once was. Finding no lips or other opening where her mouth used to be, she whimpered pitifully and fainted dead away.

* * *

**FBI HEADQUARTERS, X-FILES OFFICE**

Special Agent Brittany S. Pierce sat at her desk trying to appear interested in the file in her hands but to no avail as every few seconds she looked up at the woman sitting across from her. She let out a puff of air through the side of her mouth and loosened her skinny tie, which she only wore under orders from Assistant Director Fabray. With her hair loose over the shoulders of her white button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to three quarter length and dark suit pants, this was Agent Pierce's daily uniform.

"Can I get you some coffee? Water? Anything?"

Across the desk from her, Terri Schuester shook her head and scowled.

"My partner will be here any second," Brittany reassured her, talking more to herself than Terri. She tapped the desk with an orange pencil, bopping out a beat and ending with a tap on the bobble headed alien sat on the edge of her desk. She got nothing but a glare for her antics from Mrs Schuester then looked up with relief over to where her partner, Special Agent Santana Lopez, had just entered the office.

"San, uh, I mean, Agent Lopez! Morning," Brittany beamed at her.

"Morning," Santana smiled at her partner. Santana's smile faltered as Brittany tried to convey a message via strange facial twitches, dramatic eye widening and eyebrow wiggling.

"Who's that?" Santana mouthed to Brittany, indicating the woman sitting in front of the desk who had yet to turn and face her.

"Agent Lopez, this is, uh, this is Terri Schuester. She's got something to show us."

Santana managed to smother her scream at the sight of Terri's face, whose "mouth" now consisted of raw flesh held together by stitches. To Santana's dismay, Terri attempted a forced smile which resembled a strained grimace.

"Nice to meet you." Santana's smile was equally as forced, her nose scrunched up and her eyes crinkled until she realised what she was doing and pulled a straight face.

"Nice to meet..."

Santana winced as she watched Terri try to make her mouth say the word 'you'. She gave up in the end and simply said, "Likewise."

Santana scurried across the room to stand safely next to her partner.

"Mrs. Schuester came all the way to see us from Ohio," Brittany grinned. "Sa- Agent Lopez is from Ohio," she explained to Mrs Schuester who nodded slowly, uninterested, and decided to get things moving herself.

"They told me you were the people to best understand my situ... My sit..."

Santana watched Brittany with slight exasperation as she stared in fascination at Mrs Schuester attempting to pronounce the 'oo' sound.

"It's okay," Santana jumped in, eager to stop Mrs Schuester from using her "mouth" and drawing their attention to it any more than was necessary.

Brittany cleared her throat and began to explain. "Uh, yes, right. This is Mrs Schuester's... situation. This condition came on very suddenly about a month ago." She held up the file for Santana to see, showing photos of Terri Schuester's mouth-less face before the surgery.

"My employee, April Rhodes, she did this to me. I don't know how, I just... I know it was her."

"April Rhodes is an employee at-"

"Former employee," Terri interjected.

"Former employee," Brittany amended, "Of the self-storage yard that Mrs. Schuester manages. Uh, apparently there was some bad blood between you two?"

"She told me to shut up!" Terri waved her hand around her face, indicating her mouth and appearing as though she were swatting flies.

Santana paused her perusal of the file in her hands as she began to get an inkling of where this thing was going.

"Yeah. And then Mrs. Schuester was, uh... stricken... Stricken...," Brittany repeated herself once again finding herself distracted by Mrs Schuester's new mouth. Santana nudged her gently in the ribs.

"Stricken," Brittany continued. "And Ms Rhodes was nowhere to be found. She resurfaced several days later after blazing a trail through every bar in western Ohio. The police wanted to question her, but she refused."

"Do you know what she said?" Terri leaned forward as though imparting a great truth. She didn't notice the two agents lean back in tandem, imitating her movement and maintaining the distance between them. "She said, they had nothing on her."

"Well, and to be fair, ma'am," Brittany pointed out. "They don't."

"I've got her pee records," Terri insisted.

Santana stepped further behind Brittany at hearing this and busied herself deeper into the file in her hands.

"They had to make me a whole new mouth. Do you think the self storage business just hands out health insurance? Nuh-uh." Terri was getting so upset that she forgot her predicament for a moment and indulged in her favourite hobby, whining, and stretched her new lips further than she should have.

"I demand justice!" she spluttered and then groaned in pain, pressing a handkerchief to her weeping mouth much to the distress of the two agents.

* * *

**WILLIAM MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO**

Agents Pierce and Lopez pulled up in a rental car to the visitor parking section of the trailer park April Rhodes was known to frequent. As they exited the vehicle their ongoing discussion continued.

"Look, Britt, all I'm saying is..."

"I know, I know, this may not be a crime and this Rhodes woman may not know anything about it."

"But there is a condition called Microstomia, known as 'small mouth', which is brought on by the disease Scleroderma. It's the overproduction of collagen and it can actually reduce a person's mouth to a tiny little opening." Santana indicated the said little opening with her hands.

"Wanky," Brittany smirked at the gesture and to her delight Santana blushed and then hurriedly put her hands down. She got a slap on the arm even though Santana had walked right into that one herself.

"Yeah," Brittany agreed, after over exaggerating rubbing her arm. "But that takes months to develop, right? It doesn't just happen in the blink of an eye."

"Schuester's surgeons are stumped," Santana admitted. "They're writing it up in the New England Journal of Medicine. I guess there's always nasal aplasia, the complete absence of a nose."

"That's a nose, San, we're talking mouth here," Brittany said as they wandered along the row of trailers looking for the one the police had informed her housed April Rhodes.

"Yeah, but what we're talking is medical, physiological, and not criminal. Not as far as I can see."

"Well, maybe, but I still want to know why Rhodes doesn't want to talk to the police." Brittany shoved her hands in her pockets and tried to ask as indifferently as possible, "Have you changed your mind about visiting your mom?"

"No," Santana huffed. "We're not going to my mom's, so you can stop asking."

"But she'll feed us and she's a way better cook than you."

"Hey! Britt... What the...?"

They both stumbled to a halt and stared up at a huge yacht looming up over the trailers. Empty bottles of champagne lay discarded across the patchy brown grass surrounding one of the trailers. The agents squinted up at the vessel in puzzlement, watching as its flags flapped lazily in the breeze.

"That's a little out of place, wouldn't you say?" Santana murmured.

"Little bit."

A curtain twitched in the window of the trailer alongside the yacht and inside it April eyed the approaching agents with suspicion. "Aww, damn it. Artie!" She turned and called behind her.

A beeping noise and a whirring could be heard as Artie Abrams trundled into the main room on his motorized wheelchair. "What? What is it?"

"It's the IRS. It's got to be. Listen kid, get rid of them, all right?"

Santana knocked at the door of the trailer while Brittany did a circuit of the yacht behind her. The door opened and she looked into the doorway only to see no one there. Her brow furrowed and she sighed with slight annoyance immediately feeling guilty about it as Artie reversed his wheelchair into view to face her.

"Hi. We're looking for a Ms. April Rhodes."

"She's not here," Artie answered, otherwise ignoring Santana as he over appreciatively eyed Brittany from head to foot, much to Santana's irritation. She took back the guilty feeling from a few seconds before.

"Do you happen to know when she's coming back?"

He shook his head and shrugged until Santana pulled out her ID and tried not to smirk as she noticed his eyes widen at the sight of her FBI badge.

"Well, we are Agents Pierce and Lopez from the FBI."

"Oh," Artie coughed and cleared his throat. "The yacht... the yacht's not ours. The boat … I'm... we're just holding it for someone, and, you know... they pay the taxes on it."

Santana stared at him unblinking, "Okay..."

"April's not here," Artie spluttered and started to close the door. Brittany leaned over Santana and stopped him, holding it open with a disarming smile.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, what's the rush? What's your name?"

"Artie Abrams."

"Oh, you're April's...?"

"Step son, ex step son."

"Nice flag." She flicked the red flag he had sticking up out of the back of his wheelchair and peered over his head into the trailer.

"Hi, there," Brittany gave a lopsided grin to the young woman she spotted standing at the counter near the kitchen. She was looking mightily bored while idly shaking a beer can, setting it down then picking up another only to do the same thing to it.

The woman smirked as she caught a glimpse of the two agents and whispered, "It's about time," under her breath. She waggled her red framed sunglasses up and down at Brittany and had to stifle a laugh as Santana leaned in under Brittany's chin to find out who her partner was grinning at.

Brittany turned her attention back to Artie. "We're not here to talk about the boat, Artie. We want to talk to your step mother about her boss."

"And the, uh, unfortunate condition that she's found herself in. Would you happen to know anything about that?" Santana cocked her head to the side and watched him carefully.

"What, the mouth thing? Yeah well, that's... you know... that's just, uh, that's, like..." He opened his mouth and stared into space for a few seconds trying to think of the right word. "Chemicals," he finally came up with.

"Chemicals?"

"Yeah, you know, like, people store weird chemicals and shit. April, one time, she smelled this weird smell, you know? She thought it was a brain tumour but it turned out it was this guy with a meth lab in one of the storage units. So, you know, that's actually probably something you guys should look into, take a look into that. Uh, I'm going to get going, so I'm going to go, okay? Bye now."

He slammed the door quickly leaving Santana and Brittany on the doorstep a bit stunned.

"Okay... This is weirder than usual," Santana mused quietly to herself.

Brittany nodded her head thoughtfully. "Yeah, I see what's going on here."

Santana stared at her in disbelief then laughed as Brittany's nod slowly turned into a shake of the head and a frown.

"Food helps me think better," Brittany looked over at her partner hopefully.

"We're not going to see my mom," Santana began to walk back to the car, Brittany trailing after with a disappointed pout.

"Does she even know you're in the state?"

"No, and she's not going to either."

"But she loves me."

"Get in the car, Britt, we're going to check out the storage facility."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Warning for character death. But its okay. You don't see anything.  
**_

* * *

Chapter 2

**SELF STORAGE FACILITY, LIMA, OHIO**

Outside storage unit 407, Agents Pierce and Lopez warily peered in through the open door.

"According to Mrs Schuester she was standing right where I am when it happened," Santana said, looking carefully around her for anything untoward.

"Well, I don't smell any weird chemical smells," Brittany said, sniffing the air diligently. She turned and gazed at Santana's mouth. "You still have both your lips," she said, watching hypnotised as Santana licked her lips self consciously.

"Apparently, everything is left as it was," Santana said, reaching for her flashlight and switching it on.

"Why don't we just switch the lights on?" Brittany grumbled, tapping her temperamental flashlight against the wall until it flickered into life. "I can never see anything with these stupid things."

"Procedure," Santana replied as she stepped into the unit.

"Hey, hey, hey! Hellooo 1978," Brittany grinned. From where she had been rummaging around in an old box she proudly held up an old playboy calendar. "It's been a long time since any of this stuff has seen the light of day."

"That's too bad," Santana rolled her eyes at Brittany's reaction to the calender. "Underneath all this dust, this furniture is really wonderful."

"Oh yeah, it's the furniture that's wonderful," Brittany smirked. "You want to hit some yard sales while we're out here?"

"Brittany, this furniture is expensive, very expensive."

"What's your point? Apart from implying I don't know one stick of furniture from another."

"My point is, there's a lot of money sitting around here and maybe something's missing. Like jewellery or something. I mean, April Rhodes opened up this storage unit and then she just disappeared."

"And wound up with the Titanic in her driveway."

"Exactly. There's your crime: Theft."

"That still doesn't explain what happened to Terri Schuester," Brittany pointed out while searching through another box. "Hey, check this out." She held out a picture of a balding, overweight Seventies playboy with a scantily clad girl on each arm.

"Ewww," Santana grimaced at the sight then grabbed the picture out of Brittany's hand and inspected it closely. "Does this woman look familiar to you?" She asked, indicating a woman in the background of the photograph looking bored.

"That's the woman from the trailer."

"That's the _young _woman from the trailer. And she doesn't appear to have aged a day since this picture was taken... in 1978. How many centuries now has disco been dead?

* * *

**WILLIAM MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO**

In the Abrams-Rhodes trailer, Artie watched anxiously as his step mom paced the small room nervously. The young woman from the carpet took off her heart shaped sunglasses and picked up the TV remote with a sigh. This might take a while. She pressed down on the channel up button and as the channels flicked by too fast for regular human eyes she took note of every show on TV. She shook her head in disgust, two thousand channels and nothing worth watching... oooh wait, new Glee episode. She eyed the remote for a moment before putting it down, noticing the bottle opener function at one end of it.

"Hot damn mess, two down. Two down and I got nothing to show for it," April waved her hands in the air in frustration.

"You got the boat," Artie pointed at the white hull looming over their home and blocking the view from the window.

"And what the hell good is that? Huh? That thing is like a big... you know, big..."

"Pink elephant?" The young woman offered.

"What?" April looked around the room as though she expected an wild animal to appear. "I didn't wish for that! What does that mean?"

The woman looked over at her with a patented eye roll. "It's a big expensive item that serves no purpose and is ultimately more trouble than it's worth."

"So what the hell did you give it to me for?"

"Because you asked for it, duh."

"Fine. You know what? I can appreciate that. That's... but don't you think maybe you could've found some frickin' water to put it in, Princess?"

"You didn't specify water. You said a champagne reception on board your new yacht."

"You are one sneaky little-" April yelped as Artie ran over her foot. She glared down at him.

"Don't piss off people with super powers, 'k? How do you think this happened?" He indicated his self in the wheelchair. "Sorry about this," he spoke to their guest. "She hasn't had a drink for at least 45 minutes, she gets a bit cranky sometimes."

April snorted and turned back to the woman. "So what, I got to specify that you put a boat in water? That is a given. Frickin' elephants. I can't even pay the taxes on it."

"Why don't you just use your last wish to get rid of it?" Artie suggested with a shrug.

April looked at him in disgust. "Sometimes it's like I don't even know you, Artie. I just told you, I wasted two wishes, okay? And I am not... are you even listening? I am not going to waste the third. All right? Come on. Come on."

She walked over in front of the TV and turned it off. The young woman whined, "Awww, I haven't seen this season of Glee. Not since it moved to HBO and got X rated."

"I know, right? I got the DVD's," Artie took his glasses off and cleaned them on his shirt sleeve. "We could watch them together, later if you like? No? Okay," he ended up muttering at the look of horror on the young woman's face.

"Will you stop with the cheerleaders, we've got to concentrate here. Now, let me figure this out. Let me figure this out. Third wish, third wish, third wish, final wish. Hey, I'm just spit-balling here, all right? If I happen to say, "I wish," by accident, that does not count, not until I am absolutely ready, okay?"

"You could always give that woman her mouth back," the young woman offered up a suggestion.

"Hey, all I said was that 'I wish Terri would shut the hell up'. If you feel bad about what you did to her, fix it on your own dime, okay?"

"It doesn't work like that," the woman sighed and put her glasses back on and slumped back in the armchair. "God, I wish they'd hurry up," she said under her breath.

"Whatever. Artie, would you help me out here?"

"Uh... Money. Wish for money."

"Yeah, okay, that's not bad. That's not bad, that's not bad, my boy, but don't you think maybe we should think of something that would... generate money instead of the actual money itself?"

"Brains? Talent? Hard work?" The woman snidely remarked while seemingly uninterested in their discussion she inspected her fingernails over the top of her sunglasses.

April glared at her.

"Aspergers," the woman shrugged.

"Uh, a money machine?" Artie suggested hopefully.

"That's not quite it... something better. Something better..."

"Oh, oh oh, I know!" Artie sat up excitedly in his chair. "An infinite number of wishes?"

They both looked hopefully at the young woman who let out an irritated sigh. "Just three, settle down."

"Damn it, this is hard. I need a drink."

Artie trundled away and came back with three beers. He offered one to their guest who turned it down with a smirk.

"You know, I have a thought. Granted, it's pretty obvious." The young woman nodded her head in Artie's direction dramatically, her eyes focused on his wheelchair.

"What? What, what, what?" April span around on the spot frantically looking about the room for clues. The woman pointed at Artie's legs, both April and Artie looked at his feet.

"What?" they both said in tandem.

She indicated Artie's legs again.

"Seriously, what?"

"Oh, forget it," the woman gave up in disgust. She'd had enough of this moronic shit by now.

April's eyes widened and she jumped up and down on the spot. "I got it. I got it, I got it, I got it. Okay. Okay. Are you ready? Because I am ready. I am absolutely ready." She waved her still unopened can of beer above her head. "Okay, here goes. I wish that I could turn invisible … at will."

The young woman barked out a shout of laughter and wiped away a tear. "You're so funny," she caught a glimpse of April's face. "You are kidding?... Oh."

"No, no. This is perfect. I could have an advantage that nobody else on earth can have. I can, you know, spy and learn secret information, pick up stock tips, get into exclusive parties, movie première's, Hugh Jackman's apartment." The other two give her a look. "What? He never replied to my fan mail. I just want to make sure it arrived safely."

"Sneak into the Chicago Bears' locker room," Artie stared off into space with a little smile on his face.

"Not just that, okay? I'm talking about James Bond type stuff. You know?" April held up her hand like a gun, giggling excitedly.

"Wow," the young woman blinked. "You should really know that your wish is breathtaking in its un-originality."

"You don't have to like it, you just have to do it. Right?"

The woman sniffed in disdain and stared at April for a beat. "Done."

"My clothes are going to turn invisible, too, right?" April was grinning as she looked down at her body.

"You didn't specify clothes."

"Oh god damn. You do this on purpose dontcha? Ahh, screw it." Excitedly, April began to strip off her clothing, laughing almost manically.

Artie quickly covered his eyes, muttering. "Oh good lord, I'm going to be scarred for life."

When April got down to her lingerie the young woman turned her head away with an eye roll of disgust. "Oh, God. Turn invisible please."

April grinned and then disappeared, invisible, her bra was the last item of clothing to fall to the floor. There was a breathy giggle and then the ground vibrated as the two remaining visible people heard footsteps apparently running around the room. Artie laughed in delight and peered around the room in amazement, in awe of his step mother's new power.

"Oh boy, this is awesome! Hey. Hey, Artie? I'm over here." There was a thud and a spluttered curse, then a beer can floated across the room and into the cup holder on Artie's wheelchair. He beamed and popped open the can, his glee only dampened as beer exploded out all over the right arm of his chair and down his legs. He simply roared in laughter at the sight.

"Oops, I'm over here. Can you see me?" April called out. She whooped with joy and ran out the front door and down the wheelchair ramp, crashing into the trash cans at the base.

"Oof. Ow! Damn it." Artie and the young woman looked out of the doorway in interest at the sounds emanating from the outside. "Who left these champagne bottles lying around?"

Artie rolled out onto the decking and looks over at the overturned trash cans. "April, you all right?" he asked sounding worried.

"Yeah, sure thing, kiddo. I just realised I can't see my damn feet. Look out, world! Here I come! Whoo-hoo!" One of the cans rolled away as April got up and ran down the pavement. "I'm invisible! Invisible, baby! Whoo! Lock up your sons!"

"Whoo-oo!" Artie cheers after her.

The young woman walked back inside and picked up her sunglasses from the couch. She pulled a stick of gum from her pocket and threw it in her mouth. She looked around the trailer and brushed a speck of imaginary dust off her shoulder. Outside she could hear April hollering, "You can't see me, can you?" and Artie laughing and cheering his step mom on from the front of the trailer. After a minute or two Artie wheeled back into the trailer and looked around.

"Hey, uh...? Are you there?" He asked, but there was no sign of the mysterious woman.

Outside in the neighbourhood, April was on an adrenaline fuelled rampage madly tipping over flowerpots, pouring soil over cars, pushing a kid off his bicycle, and then went splashing through a muddy puddle leaving a few footprints on the sidewalk before the sun dried them up. A small group of pigeons scattered fearfully as a mini tornado ran right through them screaming, "Out of my way, birds!"

She screeched to a halt as across the busy street she latched eyes onto a very attractive young man who was trying to replace the chain on his racing bicycle in sinfully tight shorts and vest top, showing off almost every single muscle in his body.

"Hellooo, handsome, " she giggled and pressed the "walk" button for the crossing nearby. "Yeah, here comes April. That's right. Come on, come on, come on. Change, change."

After a few seconds the walk signal lit up and April would have skipped across the street if you could have seen her. The man bent over his bike and April began to skip happily across the road.

"Need a little roadside assistance, do ya?" she chuckled. "Well, not to worry. Here comes April."

Midway across the crossing April became aware of a very loud roar, like a large engine, and she turned her attention from the man still bending over his bike to the right, just in time to see a huge truck ignoring the signal to stop.

The truck driver growled, "Damn kids, pressing buttons all the time," and ploughed on through the empty crossing. He looked momentarily puzzled as he went through the lights and looked out his side mirror, having felt a little bump, but there was nothing there...

A few hours later on the same street, a little kid raced his bicycle on the dirt along the side of the road until he suddenly flipped head over heels over the handlebars and landed flat out on the ground. He got up and stared at where he had apparently hit an invisible speed bump, then burst into tears and ran away.

* * *

Agent Lopez stood waiting in an autopsy bay with a rather pained look on her face. She watched as a porter and a morgue attendant wheeled a covered stainless steel gurney into the room. They both looked eager to get away as soon as they delivered their trolley.

"Can we go now?" The porter asked Santana, hopefully.

"Mm-hmm," she murmured.

Santana sighed as the two men left her alone with the gurney. She lifted the sheet off the body and stared down at an apparently empty trolley. With a frown she peered sceptically at the neck prop on the gurney. She leaned closer and gingerly reached out with a finger prodding at the space there. Her eyes widened and she stepped backwards when her finger made contact with something solid. And invisible.

She pulled out her phone and hit speed dial. "Pierce? You need to get down here right away."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Agent Lopez stared at the 'empty' examining table and ran a finger along what she assumed was a shoulder. Without wasting precious seconds by standing up, she rolled her chair along the floor on its wheels, spinning around to the desk in the corner of the room and grabbed a jar of yellow powder and a brush. She pushed herself away from the desk and rolled back to the examining table, her feet not once touching the floor. Pierce would be proud.

She dipped the brush into the powder and tapped it hesitantly where the face would be. The powder settled onto a solid surface, gently landing on tiny hairs which were revealed to be eyelashes, until slowly a closed eye was finally defined. Santana tapped the brush again and continued to cover the rest of the face. An unconscious silly grin spread across her face as more of the features became revealed. She giggled to herself and got to work to reveal the whole body.

Later, when Santana had almost completely covered the body which was now most definitely April Rhodes, with the yellow powder, Agent Pierce entered the room. Noticing the avid concentration on Santana's face, she walked across and quietly watched the other agent work from over her shoulder, staring down intently at the body. She didn't say anything, just watched with a grin as Santana painted the body, the whole time with a cute, dorky smile on her face.

"I think you missed a spot here," Brittany finally interrupted with a soft voice. "I can see straight through to her ass."

Santana came over and dusted a bit of powder on the spot then reached up and dusted a bit on Brittany's nose for good measure. Brittany scrunched up her nose and sneezed in surprise.

"This is April, huh?"

"It is. Her dental records are a match. She was found about half a mile from her house. She was probably hit by a car or a truck or... something."

"And she's... invisible."

"Yes, she is."

Santana and Brittany beamed down at the corpse, having an unrivalled geeky moment. They had never had such beautiful, tangible proof in their grasp before.

"You know, Britt. In the seven years that we've been working together I have seen some amazing things, but this, this is the icing on the cake. It's going to change the boundaries of science," Santana sighed happily.

"It is amazing, but I don't think it has anything to do with science."

Santana raised an eyebrow, sat back and folded her arms across her chest, her body language ready for Brittany to try and rain on her parade.

"Just hear me out," Brittany smiled at her, holding her hands up in peaceful gesture. In one of her hands was a photograph. "Remember Mr. Saturday Night Fever?" Brittany held up the picture they had found in the storage unit. "I did a background check. His real name is Sandy Ryerson and he redefined the term, "overnight success." In 1977, his net worth was $36,000, and in 1978 it was $30 million. Then there's the interesting way in which Mr. Ryerson died."

"How's that?"

"Chronic morbid tumescence."

"Please say you don't mean what I think you mean."

"Shuh-wing. On April 4, 1978, Sandy Ryerson was admitted to Gateway Memorial Hospital with an extreme priapic condition. Apparently, he was quite the specimen." Brittany grinned and waggled her eyebrows. "They had to raise the door frame in order to wheel him into his hospital room."

Santana winced at the thought, then asked, "What does any of that have to do with this?"

Brittany held up another image, this time it was a blown up picture of the mysterious woman from the Rhodes-Abrams trailer. "I think the mystery woman is the link. The mystery woman about whom I can find absolutely no information whatsoever. I think she's responsible for all of this."

"And why would you think that? And how would she even have done this?"

"I don't know," Brittany admitted. "But we need to talk to her."

"Uh," Santana spun around as though she had just remembered the body was still behind her. "I think that I should stay here with the body. I mean, I... you know. I don't think it's a good idea to leave her unguarded. This is... this is truly amazing." She smiled happily at the dead body.

Brittany couldn't help but smile at her obvious excitement. "Okay," she agreed easily. "You guard the body." She laughed again at Santana as she began to obliviously check April over from head to toe and added to her already copious pile of notes and measurements.

* * *

**WILLIAM** **MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO**

In the Abrams' trailer home with the out of place yacht still looming through the window, Brittany sat perched on the edge of the worn sofa with her hands clasped on her lap. Across from her sat a very forlorn looking Artie Abrams.

"I'm very sorry for your loss," Brittany said softly, her heart aching for the man opposite her who suddenly looked very young at that moment.

"April didn't suffer, did she?" He asked, furiously cleaning his glasses with his shirt sleeve.

"No, I don't think she suffered." She cleared her throat and squinted at him thoughtfully. "The part about her being invisible... that doesn't, uh, catch you off guard at all?"

"Uh..." Artie trailed off and didn't answer.

"Artie, the woman who was here earlier. Where is she now?"

"She's... she's gone."

"Let me tell you where I'm going with this, Artie. I think that woman is a 'jinniyah'. Are you familiar with that term?"

"No."

"It's the feminine for jinni. As in a demon or spirit from Middle Eastern folklore."

Artie scrunched up his nose and pushed at his glasses then shook his head, he still didn't get it.

Brittany began to hum a familiar tune from a TV show theme song. Recognising it, Artie grinned and joined in. "Ahh, I get it now," he smirked at Brittany. "'Jinni', as in 'genie'. Although you do know that you hummed the theme to 'Bewitched' and not 'I Dream of Jeannie'?"

"Dammit. But you get what I mean though? Even though Barbara Eden never killed anybody... that I know of." Brittany took a mental note to look that up. "Anyway, in Arabic mythology they speak of these beings that are composed of flame or air but take human form. They can perform certain tasks or grant certain wishes. They live in inanimate objects like a lamp or a ring. Is any of this beginning to sound familiar?"

Artie shook his head hesitantly but Brittany wasn't convinced.

"Artie, I believe your step mom found such an object in the storage facility, didn't she? She took possession of the jinniyah and made some pretty outrageous requests; like Terri Schuester's mouth and the yacht in the driveway."

"Oh, wait, wait," Artie said, looking relieved. "So you don't think it's all crazy, you believe that?"

"I do. And Artie," Brittany sat up straight, trying to make herself look bigger and more professional. "For your own safety, so that what happened to your step mom doesn't happen to you." She stared him straight in the eye and flicked her hair back over her shoulder. What? It might help a bit. "I think you should hand over that object to me."

Artie sighed then wheeled himself over to a table in the corner. Brittany, perched like a meerkat, was trying to see what he was doing without getting up from her seat. She sat back down in a hurry as Artie came back and handed her a hexagonal tin with an ornate design on the lid. Brittany's eyes gleamed and she fought back a grin.

"You're doing the right thing," she nodded, reassuring him.

* * *

A short time after Brittany had left the trailer park, Artie opened the door to the storage unit 407 using April's set of keys. From the doorway he turned on a flashlight and scanned the room, the light beam finally resting on the once again rolled up carpet.

* * *

**FBI MORGUE**

Santana would have been highly amused to witness Brittany skipping into the morgue but she was too busy being enthralled with taking pictures of an invisible body, albeit a yellow powder coated invisible body, with the biggest damn camera Brittany had ever seen.

"Hey, Santana, come check this out," she fidgeted in the doorway wanting her partner to come out into the office.

"Just a minute," Santana muttered, clearly not wanting to leave the amazing specimen. She made another circuit around the body tray sticking out of the wall where it was being stored, snapping several more shots. Brittany stifled a giggle at the sight of Santana concentrating so intently, her tongue sticking out slightly as she focused on her task. A smudge of yellow powder coated her right cheek and her hair was wildly trying to escape her regulation ponytail.

"You do realise you're taking pictures of an invisible body? That's like an oxymoron or something. Come on, she's not going anywhere. Come on!" Brittany waved at her to follow.

Santana pushed the slab back into the wall and whispered happily to the body, "Bye." Her cheeks flushed pink as she turned to find Brittany watching her from the door with an adoring smile. "What?" Santana rubbed her nose self consciously, getting more powder on her face before locking the cabinet holding April's body and joined Brittany at the desk in the next room.

"I have a group of researchers flying in from Harvard Medical," she beamed at Brittany. "I can't wait to see their faces."

Brittany leaned in with a smile, immediately getting Santana's full attention, then reached over and wiped the errant powder off her nose with her sleeve.

Brittany smirked at Santana's flustered reaction and was about to hand over the container Artie had given her before hesitating. "Is it an invisible body if it's visibly yellow?" she pondered.

Santana smacked her lightly on the arm. "Of course it is!" She huffed indignantly. "What's this?" She asked with a slight scowl, taking the tin from Brittany's hands.

"It's not what I hoped it would be," Brittany sighed. "Judging from the odour inside, I think it's where the Rhodes/Abrams family kept their weed."

Santana sniffed the container then recoiled and handed it back to Brittany with her nose wrinkled up in disgust. Brittany clicked on the computer nearby and brought up a page on to the screen.

"But that's not what I wanted to show you. Recognize this guy?" She pointed to a black and white image of Mussolini on a podium, addressing a crowd.

"Benito Mussolini? I mean, I've never met him but..."

Brittany smirked at Santana's attempt to joke about. She must be in a very good mood to crack some jokes. "Okay, wise guy, how about her?" She pointed to a woman standing off to side in the picture, looking very young and very bored.

"Your mystery woman. Or someone who looks a lot like her."

"The computer says it's the same woman. I ran her through Quantico's facial recognition software and couldn't come up with a match in the known felon database. Then I took a copy of the 70's photo and checked with the image bank at the national archives. Voilà!"

Santana made an odd sound like a disbelieving snort. "Even if it is her, what would she be doing with Mussolini?"

"Or Richard Nixon for that matter," Brittany shrugged and clicked on another tab opening up a video clip. She pressed play and a video of Richard Nixon pontificating started playing. Behind him stood the young woman from the Rhodes/Abrams trailer and the old photos, filing her nails and looking bored.

"I don't know," Brittany continued. "But what I do know is, they were both men who got all the power they ever wished for and then lost it."

* * *

**WILLIAM MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO**

At the Abrams' trailer, the mysterious woman kicked at her rug so it unrolled in the middle of the floor. She looked around the familiar room with a scowl.

"See?" Artie said with an oblivious smile. "I told you it'd look good in here. Nice rug. How do you breathe in that thing?"

"Look, Artie. Can we just get this over with? You got three wishes. Go." She said, snapping her fingers.

"Okay. Don't rush me, all right? I want to do this right. Got to be smarter than April was," Artie said, looking over at a collection of framed family photographs next to the TV. "Damn it, April," he whispered.

"I don't want to tell you what to do, but in the interests of the organisation GAS, 'Genies Against Stupidity', can I make a suggestion?"

Artie looked blankly at her until the woman indicated his legs with a wave of an arm.

"What?" Artie asked.

"This," she snapped. "Your disability. I guess something bad happened for you to end up in the chair? Some kind of tragedy? But that's just a stab in the dark here."

"Yeah, well, it was pretty tragic, I guess. Me and April were playing mailbox baseball," he chuckled. "God, I miss that game, and April's driving. I was leaning pretty far out the window there. Oh." He laughed and slapped his palms on the arms of his wheelchair. "You mean this thing?"

"Finally," the woman muttered and nodded.

"Yeah, you're right," Artie rubbed the arms of his chair fondly. "I could wish for a solid gold wheelchair. Man, that'd actually be kinda sweet."

The woman put her hand up and pinched the bridge of her nose with a pained expression on her face.

"I see what you're saying but, you know what? There's something I want more than that," said Artie. He gazed over at a photo of himself in his high school graduation robes with April hugging him tightly with a proud look on her face.

* * *

**FBI MORGUE**

The FBI building was on cautionary alert that morning. Never had anyone seen Agent Lopez so, there was only one word for it, giddy. She smiled and nodded and even slapped a few of her colleagues on the back, much to their bemusement.

At eight am precisely, Agent Lopez proudly led three members of the esteemed Harvard Research team to the locked unit in the morgue. She frowned as she noticed her guard asleep while on duty. She nudged Agent Pierce whose chin slid off where it rested on her arm until she jumped up and shouted, "I'm awake!" Her eyes locked with Santana's and narrowed into a frown when she couldn't see any coffee. She mumbled, "S'all yours," and left them to it.

Santana laughed it off and couldn't help but turn back and beam at her guests. Her hand shook slightly as she pulled the key out of her lab coat where it was tied to a solid metal keychain.

She turned the key and then paused for a deep, calming breath. This was it. Her defining moment, the beginning of medical miracle history. This discovery would have her name go down in the annals as one of the most famous pathologists of all time. Even her father would have been proud of her at this moment. She addressed her small audience.

"Doctor's, Professor, I'm so excited that the Harvard Research Team came here today. Thank you so much for coming at such short notice. I'm sure you'll agree when you see this that I haven't wasted your time. You're not going to believe your eyes," she chuckled. "I certainly didn't. You ready?"

She opened the door and pulled out the tray which was, unfortunately, very empty. She stared at it for a second then nervously glanced back at the team behind her who were exchanging sceptical glances with each other.

"Uh," Santana began to mutter. "She's, uh... she is invisible after all. Um...," she laughed weakly and put out her hand to feel about the tray only to touch nothing but air. "She is in there, I swear."

She reached back further into the compartment but there was still nothing. In desperation Santana climbed onto the table and searched inside the storage compartment giving the Doctors a gratuitous view of her ass. She looked out of the box to see the Doctors shaking their heads.

"No wait!" She called out desperately from the hole in the wall as they started to leave. "She was here! I saw her. Well, I didn't see her but... No, wait!"

* * *

**WILLIAM MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO**

In the Abrams' trailer living room, Artie and April, who was still covered in yellow powder, sat across from each other at the table. The genie leant against the counter which constituted the kitchen, carefully filing her nails and ignoring the situation at the table. Before both April and Artie was a bowl of cornflakes, but Artie was the only one eating anything.

Flies buzzed around the reanimated, sort of squashed, dead body of April. Artie stared at her and then turned to the genie. "Okay, you know what? She's creeping me out. This isn't what I asked for. She's all weird and messed up."

"She's been hit by a truck, genius. What did you expect?"

"I asked you to bring her back to normal."

"Nuh-uh, you asked me to bring her back."

"Okay, the..." Artie frowned and leant down to sniff his bowl of cereal, then looked over at April. "She's starting to smell now, like, really bad. Come on, this isn't what I wanted! She's got to at least be able to talk. Okay... You know what? That's my next wish. I wish April could talk."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do and that's final."

"No, really. You don't."

"My wish, my call, and I wish April could talk!"

The genie sighed. "Done."

Artie watched April carefully, not noticing the genie cover her ears with her hands as April opened her mouth and began to scream, and didn't stop.

* * *

**FBI MORGUE**

Brittany stuck her head around the door warily, wondering why the morgue was so quiet. She walked in with a cup of coffee in each hand and a bag of celebratory iced doughnuts dangling from her fingers, along with a hesitant smile. She made her way over to April's designated slab and peered carefully inside the hole in the wall before setting down the snacks on the empty table. Alongside her, Santana sat despondently with her head in her hands.

Brittany wisely decided not to ask aloud the question in her mind. Instead she prodded a finger at the table while Santana wasn't looking and received her answer that way. There was nothing there. She startled, caught looking for April under the table when Santana spoke.

"I should just shoot myself. Oh my god, I was so happy, so excited. What was I thinking?" Her voice tailored off into a humiliated whisper. "An invisible woman?" she squeaked.

"You saw it. It was real," Brittany reassured her.

"I don't know what I saw," Santana said, shaking her head. "I do know that having that kind of proof in my hands was too good to be true."

"I don't think that's why the body disappeared, so to speak," Brittany said.

"Why did the body disappear?" Santana asked with a frustrated sigh.

"I think it was the result of a wish being granted."

"A wish? Whose wish?"

"Who would want April Rhodes back? I mean, really, really back."

Santana's residual embarrassment disappeared, her eyes narrowed and she scowled. "Artie Abrams. Imma kill him."

* * *

**WILLIAM MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO **

In Artie's trailer, April was still screaming in horror after twenty straight minutes. The noise finally tapered off into a weak gurgle when her throat dried up out of lack of moisture.

"Well, this ain't good." Artie's hands trembled as he brought them down from where they'd been protecting his ears.

"What did you do to me?" April gasped out. She stared at her yellow coated arms held out in front of her.

"What?" Artie said in disbelief. "You're back from the dead. What kind of gratitude is that?"

April rounded on him. "What did you do to me?" She rasped.

"I wasted two wishes on you, that's what I did!" Artie huffed.

April slapped her palm to her chest and squeezed a boob. "I can't feel my heart."

Artie looked accusingly at the genie, who raised an eyebrow and shrugged back at him.

"I can't feel my blood." April coughed and a cloud of yellow powder puffed before her eyes. "I'm yellow! I'm cold." April shivered miserably. "I'm cold. I'm cold."

"Screw this," Artie snapped. "I wasted two wishes on you. And a perfectly good bowl of corn flakes." He rolled over to the thermostat and cranked the dial up to full blast. "There, I turned the heat up. Are you happy now? Huh? Are you happy? Is there anything else I can do for you there, April?" He turned back but April had gone.

Artie looked over to the kitchen where she was shakily trying to light some matches. There was an odd hissing noise coming from the gas stove.

"Damn, why wont these light? I managed to get a cake out of a kid's birthday party once with the candles still lit and I cant even light a frickin' match. My fingers aren't working properly," April's teeth chattered as she tried to start the burner.

The genie turned her attention back to Artie, taking no notice of the aftermath of the wish she had just granted. Frankly, she couldn't wait to be out of the company of these two morons. "You want to make your third wish, Robo-boy? I'd like to get out of here before the blowflies hatch and it gets any nastier."

"Yeah," Artie muttered darkly. "And I tell you what, my last wish is going to be for me. It's going to be for me, you hear that, April?" He yelled over at her. "I wasted two wishes on you and you don't even give a damn about that! All right, third wish. Uh, let's see, I could wish for, uh... I could wish for money. Not everybody wishes for money. No, um... or there's the invisibility thing."

He looked over at April who was completely ignoring him and muttering away to herself. "Cold, cold, cold, colder than hell."

"I guess that turned out pretty stupid, huh? April? To be invisible! That was real smart, huh?"

Outside the trailer, a rental car pulled up and Agents Lopez and Pierce stepped out of the vehicle and began to walk towards the residence.

"X-ray eyes, maybe? No, that would be... hmm. Like you said, solid gold wheelchair."

As Artie took his time pondering his final wish, the genie looked over at April with slight concern as the yellow tinted woman croaked aloud her triumph at finding a cigarette lighter in the kitchen drawer.

"Uh... wait, I got it. Legs!" Artie yelled with a grin.

The genie cracked a smile for the first time that evening at the irony of it all. "Finally," she breathed in relief. "Granted."

Artie beamed with pure happiness at his perfect wish just as April succeeded in producing a flame from the lighter and igniting the stove and the entire trailer with a bang. At that same moment, Agent Lopez rapped smartly at the door which slammed into the two FBI agents and threw them back down the path as it was blown violently off its hinges.

At the far end of the blackened yacht, Brittany looked up from where she was covering Santana protectively with her body as debris rained down around them. They watched as a rolled up carpet landed on the smoking grass nearby, a muffled "Ouch" could be heard as it impacted the ground. Brittany and Santana stared at it, then at each other, then back at the remains of the destroyed trailer.


	4. Chapter 4

_a/n. Idek. This chapter just went nuts._

* * *

**4.**

**WILLIAM MCKINLEY TRAILER PARK, LIMA, OHIO**

The FBI had commandeered the only office in the trailer park reception building. From the front door Santana watched the flickering lights from the fire trucks and emergency response officers trying to get the situation under control. Through the window behind her Agent Pierce began to interview the mysterious woman.

"Would you mind removing your eyewear, ma'am?" The woman snapped a bubble from her gum and took off her sunglasses with a smirk like a cocky teenager. "Do you have a name?"

"Nothing you could pronounce."

"Try me," Brittany looked at her intently.

"Shugahmottalpeace," the woman blurted out as rushed as she could.

"Uh, right, cool name. How about if I call you Sugar?" To Brittany's surprise Sugar smiled genuinely at her.

"That'd be rad."

They both looked over as Agent Lopez entered the room. "The fire department just recovered two bodies. Looks like Artie Abrams and his step mother, April. And, uh, April is visible now. Of course," she muttered. Santana turned to Sugar with a sharp glare. "But what I'd really love an explanation for is how her corpse got from my locked morgue all the way to Ohio."

Sugar blew another bubble completely unfazed by the Lopez death glare and nodded her head indicating Brittany. "Ask her. She's got it all figured out."

"Oh, I know what she'd say," Santana said. "She'd say that you're some kind of a jinni from 1,001 Nights or something like that and that you grant people wishes."

"Well, there you have it," Sugar nodded, looking pleased with that conclusion.

"One thing I haven't been able to figure out is whether you're a good jinni or an evil one," Santana pondered. "Everybody you come in contact with seems to meet a bad end."

"That's the conclusion you've drawn? That I'm evil?" Sugar's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. "Rude!"

"Only possibly. Possibly evil," Brittany interrupted to clarify and stop any spiralling confrontations. "Possibly cursed. A curse to others. Maybe."

Sugar looked upset at this. "The only thing people are cursed with is stupidity. Everybody. Mankind. Everyone I have ever come into contact with without fail. Always asking for the wrong thing and then making out like it's my fault!"

"You mean making the wrong wishes?"

"Yeah, it's always: 'Give me money. Give me big boobs.'" Sugar waved her arms about indicating Santana's too good to be true chest.

"I'll have you know these are real!" Santana spluttered indignantly while Brittany bit her lip trying not to laugh.

"Give me a big hoo-hoo. Make me cool like the Fonz." Or whoever's the big name now."

"You been out of circulation for a long time," Brittany noted.

"So what?" Sugar snapped, upset at the thought she was responsible for other people's stupid choices. "People never change," she scowled and flounced back in her seat in a sulk.

Santana and Brittany exchanged a glance, Brittany pleading with her eyes. Santana huffed and asked. "So, have you been doing this a long time?"

"I'll admit that people smell better now, generally speaking, but human greed still reigns supreme... shallowness... a propensity for self-destruction." Sugar continued with her rant.

"Are you saying that you have been a first-hand witness to hundreds of years of human history?" Santana asked with a squeak of disbelief.

"How did you even become a genie?" Brittany asked her curiously.

Sugar's lips curled into a smile, pleased to have an attentive audience taking an interest in her for once. She stood in the centre of the room between the two agents and waved her arms around for dramatic emphasis. "In fifteenth century France is where we lay our scene."

"Bullshit. I'm calling it," Santana interrupted.

Sugar and Brittany ignored her. Santana scoffed but Brittany hushed her much to her indignation. She sat back with a scowl, her arms crossed in defiance. Sugar addressed Brittany instead, who was sitting in front of her with her mouth open in rapt enthralment.

"I was in the fields slaving away under the baking hot sun, harvesting... spuds? No! Turnips, yes, turnips."

"Oh, come on!" Santana couldn't help herself. "Look at you, you'd have a heart attack if you got a speck of dirt under your nails and they didn't even have potatoes in fifteenth century France."

"I said turnips, and it's not normal that you would know about the entire history of potatoes if you're not even Irish. I had this boyfriend once from Ireland who-"

"Sugar, get on with the story before I arrest you for wasting FBI time and doing my head in and stealing my invisible body."

Sugar scowled. "Fine," she huffed. "I was at a yard sale with my folks and accidentally kicked over the carpet. Unfortunately it had Jesse in it."

"Jesse?"

"Jesse was the Ifrit. An Ifrit is a very powerful class of jinni. He was hot so I went out with him for a bit, and it didn't hurt that he promised me the world. I wished for a recording contract and fame and fortune. My Ma went nuts because she thought this guy was a drug dealer and was paying for everything with blood money."

"A recording contract in fifteenth century France?" Santana queried, but Sugar wasn't listening.

"My second wish was for a time machine, but we wont go into that just yet."

Brittany and Santana stared at her in wonderment. Who the hell was this girl?

"What happened to 15th century France?" Brittany asked tentatively.

"Oh, that's the official line. It's not really what happened. I'm from NYC."

"What was your third wish?"

"My third... I pondered for a great while. I didn't want to waste it. So, finally, feeling very intelligent I spoke up and I said, 'I wish for great power and long life.'"

"And became a jinni yourself."

"I know, right? I at least wanted a lamp, or a bottle. It's really hard to keep from smelling musty in a carpet and it ain't no fun in heels, I can tell you. Anyway, Jesse tricked me. We went for a ride in my time machine and then he told me I got his job and house and then the slimy douche ran off with the machine leaving me a couple hundred years away so I couldn't track him down. I'm still figuring out how this magic works, I cant do time travel yet, I have to do it the old fashioned way."

"That's why your wishes are a bit... hit and miss."

"That and I get bored easily and people annoy me. I get that from my ma."

Santana nodded in sympathy.

"What time are you from?" Brittany asked.

Sugar's eyes widened. "Um... not too long to go now. A bit ahead of now."

"I know you spent a lot of time in that carpet and that must keep you young somehow, but how long have you spent out of it, granting wishes?"

"7 years. I was 16 when I got the gig. Two hundred years downtime."

"You're just a kid," Santana said softly. "What about your family?"

Sugar shrugged and sat back down in her chair, her arms wrapped around herself. She looked so much younger than her 223 years. "I always knew I'd see them again." She began to look uncomfortable under their stares. "You've just gotta be specific with your wishes is what I learned. So, am I under arrest?"

Santana rubbed her temples and shook her head. "No. I can't think of anything we have to hold you on. And, not surprisingly we don't have any evidence of any of this, so, uh... I think she's free to go."

"Ahhh, but no, I'm not. She unrolled me," Sugar smirked and pointed to Brittany.

Both women looked at Brittany as her face slowly registered Sugar's words. A mega watt grin spread across her face as she realized what this meant. "I get three wishes."

"Oh my god," Santana whispered.

* * *

**PIERCE TOWERS**

Sugar scratched Lord Tubbington behind his ears much to Brittany's amazement because that cat didn't like anyone touching him, not even Brittany and she was the registered keeper of the can opener.

"So, your partner left the airport rather quickly. I don't think she likes me very much," Sugar said, seeming a bit upset by that.

"I don't think she knows what to make of you and probably thinks you'll lead me astray. I don't think I know what to make of you either, really."

"Well, you could always give up your three wishes. I'll disappear- no hard feelings," Sugar waggled her eyebrows at Brittany who gave her a little smile. "I didn't think so. So, what's your first wish?"

"Well..." She tilted her head to the side and stared off into space, deep in thought, then laughed. "What would your wish be if you were in my place?"

"I'm not you. It doesn't matter," Sugar said offhandedly as she circled the apartment checking out every personal effect she could see while being followed the entire time by Lord Tubbington as though he were escorting her.

"But, I just... you know, I'd like to know."

"I'd... wish that I'd never heard the word "wish" before. I'd wish that I could live my life moment by moment, enjoying it for what it is instead of worrying about what it isn't." Sugar stopped at the window and peeked through the blinds looking out at the traffic and people bustling below. "I'd just wish that I could go home," Sugar said quietly. "And sit and have coffee with my ma and watch my brother and mom play superheroes in his treehouse. I just want to go home," she whispered. "But then again, I'm not you," she spoke up again. "So I doubt that's your wish."

"You know, I think I'm beginning to see the problem here. You say that most people make the wrong wishes, right?"

"Without fail. It's like giving a chimpanzee a revolver."

"This is because they make their wishes solely for personal gain."

"Could be."

"So the trick would be to make a wish that's totally altruistic. That's for everyone. So, um... I wish for peace on earth."

"Peace on earth. That's it?"

At Sugar's words Brittany looked worried. "What's wrong with that? You can't do it?"

"No. I can," Sugar looked with what Brittany thought was a pitying stare at her. "It's done."

Brittany beamed in delight. The ecstatic look on her face froze and then fell into panic when she realized that all the sounds from the traffic outside had disappeared. "Oh, crap."

She went to the window and tugged on the cord for the blinds. Her jaw dropped open at the sight below and she ran for the door, pausing only to trip over Lord Tubbington before running outside. Outside, the street was full of empty cars and buses. Brittany stared at a bus stopped in the middle of the intersection with no one aboard.

"Oh crap, oh crap. I should have seen this coming!" She looked around the street but there wasn't a soul in sight. She began to run down the street heading for the FBI building. "Santana!"

* * *

**FBI HEADQUARTERS**

Brittany burst into her office, "Santana?" but there was no answer. She hurried though the deserted building checking each room, the lab, the cafeteria, but there was no sign of Santana or, in fact, anyone else. Random piles of scattered files on the floor indicated where people may have been walking before they... disappeared.

"Hello? Hello?" Brittany called out desperately. Reaching Assistant Director Fabray's office she checked inside but it was also empty.

Brittany kicked the floor with her foot and then applauded sarcastically looking around the empty room. "Alright, very good. Very impressive. Ha har. Sugar? Sugar, whatever the hell your name is..." She tailed off when she spotted Sugar sitting in Fabray's chair, her feet up on the desk and a smug grin on her face.

"You called?"

"What the hell is this?"

"It's what you asked for. Peace on earth. Listen." She put her hands up to cup her ears and exaggeratedly listened to the lack of sound.

"You know damn well that's not what I meant."

"You didn't specify."

"This has nothing to do with specificity. You don't have to wipe out the entire population of the whole planet just to effect a little peace on earth and goodwill towards men."

"You didn't say goodwill towards men. So, what, you expect me to change the hearts of six billion people? No religion in history has been able to pull that off. Not Allah or Buddha or Christ. But you'd like me to do that in your name? So... what? You can feel real good about yourself?"

"Did I say that?" Brittany got all defensive. "I didn't say that. Where the hell is Santana?"

Sugar clicked her tongue in a tutting sound. "Hmm, how grotesquely egotistical of you. I bet you wish you hadn't made your first wish."

"Yes, I do," Brittany yelled. "Since you butchered the intent of that wish so completely. And another thing, I think you've got a really horrible attitude. I guess that comes from being rolled up in a rug for the last 200 years."

Brittany continued to rail at Sugar not noticing her second wish had been granted already and undone the first. In the office, seated around the conference table, Assistant Director Fabray and five other agents watched Agent Pierce with great interest as she shouted at, what was to them, thin air and an empty seat.

"But we're not all that stupid! We're not all chimpanzees with revolvers. I think there's another possibility here and that's just that you're kind of a bitch," she pointed furiously at the chair behind the desk.

Sugar twirled a finger and indicated that the irate Agent should look behind her. Brittany slowly turned around with an escalating sense of dread creeping up on her. As she did, Sugar disappeared with a chuckle.

"Agent Pierce?" Assistant Director Fabray was staring at the agent with a mixture of astonishment and confusion.

Brittany gulped. "Ma'am."

"How did you get in here?" Fabray asked, puzzled.

Brittany's face flushed pink in sheer embarrassment and she shuffled her feet wondering if she should use her last wish for a hole to open up in the floor beneath her. "Uh..."

* * *

**X-FILES OFFICE, FBI BUILDING**

In her office, Brittany typed furiously away at her computer focused entirely on her document while Sugar leaned on the back of her chair and snorted aloud every few seconds as she read the agent's words. She read aloud a selective few sentences of Brittany's writing.

"Whereas, I have one wish left and desire to use it most effectively for the good of all mankind" yadda, yadda, yadda... 'Here on this plane of existence...' Hmm... Hmm-hmm. What, are you a lawyer?" She looked down at Brittany who ignored her and continued typing. Sugar grinned. "You're cute, d'you know that? I can see why she likes you."

"What?" Brittany looked up.

"Never mind. But you should probably get a move on with it, I wasnt born yesterday."

"I'm going to get this last wish perfect. I'm not going to leave you any loopholes. I'm not going to let you interpret this as an edict to bring back the Third Reich or to make everyone's eyes grow on stalks."

"Oh, geez," Sugar melodramatically drew her hand up to cover her heart. "And I was so looking forward to that."

Agent Lopez entered the office with a file of papers in her arms and eyed the two of them with equal amounts concern and suspicion. "Fabray called me, Pierce. Is everything all right?"

Brittany jumped up from her seat and practically bounded over to Santana, grabbing her by the shoulders and inspecting her carefully. "You don't remember disappearing off the face of the earth for about an hour this morning?"

"Uh, no?"

Brittany hugged Santana tightly, crushing the pile of papers between them. "Oh, thank God." She stood back with a great sigh of relief. "Well then, I guess everything's okay."

Santana sighed and began to speak. "Okay... Bri..." She turned and looked at Sugar who was unashamedly watching their every move. "Could you give us a minute, please?"

"Sure." Sugar didn't move from where she was leaning against the computer desk.

Santana took another step towards Brittany and then not having heard Sugar leave the room she turned back around. "Like today?"

There was no one there. Sugar had disappeared. "Where did she go?"

Brittany crossed her arms 'I Dream of Jeannie' style and did a dorky head boink. "Boink!"

"No... It's got to be hypnotism or mesmerism or … something."

"Santana, it is what it is. You examined an invisible body, remember?"

"I thought I did."

Brittany rolled her head in frustration. "Argggh!"

"All right, say that you're right. Say this is what it is. Then what you're doing is extraordinarily dangerous. I mean, you even said that yourself."

"The trick is to be specific, to make the wish perfect. Sugar told me herself, I think she likes us," Brittany smiled. "That way, everyone is going to benefit. It's going to be a safer world, a happier world. There's going to be food for everyone, freedom for everyone, the end of the tyranny of the powerful over the weak. Am I leaving anything out?"

"It sounds wonderful," Santana said wistfully.

"Then what's the problem?"

"B, maybe that's the whole point of our lives, to achieve that. Maybe it's a process that one person shouldn't try and circumvent with a single wish."

Santana hesitated as Brittany thought over her words, then sighed and left the office. She stuck her head back around the door a moment later. "Just tell me you didn't watch 'I Dream of Jeannie' as research material, did you?"

"Of course not," Brittany snorted and chuckled. She turned back to the computer and button bashed in an attempt to look busy. Santana smirked and left again.

"You ready?" Sugar asked, popping up out of nowhere.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Brittany closed document she was working on and turned off the monitor. She turned to face Sugar. And smiled.

* * *

**PIERCE TOWERS (later that evening) **

Brittany put a DVD in the player, the screen displaying the FBI warning as she picked up the bowl of popcorn at her side and threw herself down on the couch next to Santana.

"I can't believe you don't want butter on your popcorn. Ugh. It's un-American."

Santana ignored her snub and picked up the DVD case. "'The Invisible Man'. Really, Britt? You went there after I saw your 'I Dream of Jeannie' boxset hidden under the Aspidistra and I didn't even make a comment about it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. 'The Invisible Man' is a classic American movie."

Santana slumped back on the couch and took the opened beer Brittany passed her. "That's what you say about every movie you make me watch."

"Okay, when you invite me over to your place we can watch 'Jersey Shore' or whatever it is you're obsessed with."

"I've got the latest boxset," Santana's eyes lit up.

"Oh great."

Santana flicked her beer cap across the room and landed it unerringly in the waste bin. Brittany threw her beer cap in the same direction. Santana snorted into her beer as the second cap bounced off the wall and onto the floor, missing the bin completely. Lord Tubbington pounced on it immediately, well, as immediately as a cat the size of a warthog can pounce. Brittany huffed until Santana swung her legs up on the couch and stretched them out into her lap.

"So, what's the occasion?"

"I don't know. Just felt like the thing to do. Cheers."

"Cheers." They tapped bottles and drank.

"I don't know if you noticed but, um," Brittany fiddled with the label on her beer bottle peeling at the corner until it came away in her hand. "I never made the world a happier place. Sadly."

"Well, I'm fairly happy. That's something," Santana smiled happily at Brittany who grinned back. "So what was your final wish, anyway?

Brittany gazed at her intently for a long moment, taking in all of her, then sighed contentedly and took another swig of her beer as the haunting movie theme started.

* * *

**NYC, 2032**

Sugar opened her eyes and looked down at her attire. She wore a red and white stripy summer dress and large, red, heart shaped sunglasses on her sixteen year old body. She let out a shuddering sigh of relief. Next, she was on a sidewalk. On the grass verge next to it people were milling around a yard sale under the hot summer sun. She looked around as someone called for her.

"Sugar!"

Not far away her mom and brother were sitting next to a box of mixed toys happily sorting through the action figures and using them to fight each other with.

"Hey Sug, come and look at this." She looked over to see her mami holding a old looking wooden puzzle box, shaking it and listening curiously to the rattle from inside. Sugar's eyes widened as she recognised the rolled up carpet leaning up against the table her family were dangerously close to.

"No!" She ran over and dragged her mother away by her arm.

"Sug, what the? What are you doing?"

Santana looked down at the girl who was staring at her, her mouth open as though trying to say something, her eyes glassy with tears. Santana looked carefully at her daughter who was clearly upset by something.

"What is..." Her eyes narrowed and a flash of recognition jolted through her for a second, then just as quickly as it arrived, it disappeared. Sugar threw herself into her rather astonished mother's arms and hugged her tightly until they were interrupted by Brittany who hugged Sugar from behind.

"Sugar sandwich!" she giggled. "Are you guys ready to go? My stomach is telling me it's lunchtime."

"Are you okay, Sugar?" Santana asked softly. Brittany wrapped her left arm around Sugar's shoulder holding her tightly into her side.

"Yeah," she sniffled. "Let's go. So long as we don't have to go to BreadstiX, again."

"Rude! But maybe you can choose somewhere then?" Sugar chuckled as Santana gasped in horror at what her son was battering hell out of. "Tony, leave the drumkit. I'm sorry, no matter how much I love you, you're not having a drum kit."

"But mom said I could have a drumkit!"

"You wish, kiddo." Brittany looked down at Sugar who was still tucked safely under her arm and had tensed at her words. "Alright, baby?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "Yeah."

The End

* * *

_A/N: Thanks for reading and sticking with me for this experimental sort of story. Two of my favourite things sandwiched together: X Files and Brittana. Guh._


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